Freddy vs Fanfiction
by Restless Brook
Summary: Our favorite dream stalker has just discovered fanfiction.net., and all its horrors...
1. Hi Freddy!

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Freddy vs. Fanfiction

Ok. This is my first "Nightmare on Elm Street" fiction. And yes it is humor. I realize that some things in this story may not make that much sense, such as the fact that Freddy owns a computer (Hey, you never know) and the fact that it's possessed. 

Also, if you review, please don't flame. It's extremely rude, and gets nothing accomplished. Constructive Criticism is, of course, always welcome and appriciated. 

Other than that, I don't own any of this. (Except the idea) All characters belongs to Wes Craven and other people I don't know. Enjoy!

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Cackling manically into the night air, the notorious mass child murderer known as Freddy Krueger made his way to his "house" in the dream world. Fresh from a recent slaughter of a 15 year old, he smiled sinisterly as he came upon the replica of his real life home, 1428 Elm Street. 

His hearing rejoiced upon the familiarity of the creak of the door as it opened and he went in. His thoughts turned to his home back in reality, and again he grinned, as last he checked it had been unoccupied, thanks to his legend. He then pondered over the strangeness of that night. 

Hardly anyone had been asleep, and it made him reminiscence to the period when he was "forgotten" about. He shivered. He hoped he'd _never _be in that situation again. He didn't even want to think of Jason; and the mess _he _had made. Ok, so it had been entirely his doing. What did it matter? At least he had the balls to plan something as evil as taking over another mass murderer. 

But that was not the point. The dream world had been empty, an oddity unheard of since _that_ era. Then again, it was New Years Eve, so the lack of dreams wasn't all THAT surprising. So he had been left to wander aimlessly around...nothingness. And man had he been bored. 

He struck lucky with one girl, a teenager who, oddly enough, had fallen asleep reading. (Something I myself do all the time ;P) It had struck him as odd, seeing as today's generation had many new ways to entertain themselves; more than he ever had. 

Other than that, that was his only satisfaction that night. He sighed to himself as he logged onto the computer. Pop-Ups, instantaneously, began to clog his monitor screen. "F*&%$ Dammit." He muttered in annoyance, shaking his bladed gloves at the screen.

"Enlarge your breasts? What the hell?" He scanned one screen to another, occasionally grinning at the...more graphic ones. He surfed one site to another, always finding something to complain about. Grrr...what the hell was it with that damned Pirate movie? He wondered as he came across the 50 thousandth site advertising the newly released DVD. 

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That one in the middle looks waaaay too familiar. Kinda like the older version of that kid I killed by sucking him through the bed. He pondered some more. The young chick caught and held his attention, though. He smirked. Wonder what she'd be like in bed? (All males think alike. And Freddy, being the pedophile that he is, is no exception)

Eventually, he became so bored, he went to a site he had observed thousands of teens visiting: fanfiction.net. Straight forward, he went right to Movies and clicked upon "Nightmare on Elm Street".

His grin faded into a frown as he silently read the titles and summaries. What the hell? Since when did he go to group therapy sessions with other horror peers? (I don't mean to insult any author writing this. This is just what I think Freddy would think of certain types of stories) Just as that thought crossed his twisted mind, he found himself fading from the computer.

He looked around to see that he was in one of those church basements where they held AA meetings. He shuddered. Church to him was like garlic to a vampire; fatally ill. He realized, as he glanced around, that he was not alone. He found himself in the company of Jason Vorhees, Leatherface, Micheal Myers, and Chuckie.

He was curious as to why there weren't any female villains around; he knew plenty that were just as infamous as him. (Though he was STILL number 1 ;p) Entering through a side door came one creepy looking chick. Or was it a guy? Freddy had no clue as he stared at the muscular figure with the shortened hair, wearing a dress. (It seems to me that the "shrinks" or "doctors" in these stores are sometimes just as insane as the characters, if not more.)

"Welcome." He (definitely a he, by the rich timbre of his voice) greeted them all. "Come on Freddy, take a seat, join us." he coaxed in a hypnotizing way. As much as he did not want to be there, he figured, What the F*&^%? His first fatal mistake. (Bing! Point for Freddy!) 

"Please, tell us more about you." The doctor, whose name happened to be Dr. Goodwin, gestured. "Well, my name's Freddy." He started off rather hesitantly. "Hi Freddy." The rest of the group replied in a monotone unison. _Dear Satan. _Freddy thought, knowing it was going to be a long, long, night. "And.." Dr. Goodwin motioned for him to go on.

"And I've been the cause of countless deaths." He continued awkwardly. "Right then..." The doctor droned on, but Freddy wasn't one to pay attention. He felt the eyes of someone on him, and turned to see Jason staring at him heatedly (No, there isn't slash. Yet. ^_~). 

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I wonder if he finally got the brains to get pissed off...Freddy smirked. A split second later, Jason's eyes returned to their normal state of ignorant bliss. Then became angry again. Freddy was a little unnerved . _That kid has some serious ADD issues..._

"Mr. Kruger?" The doctor interrupted his train of thought. "Hm?" The demon looked up. "Please pay attention!" It reminded Freddy of one of his old school teachers, and he groaned inwardly at the connection. As he was forced to listen to the rest of them, it suddenly dawned him he could just get up and leave. And never come back. (He's a little...slow today. ^_~) 

And so he tried to leave, but found he couldn't move a muscle. _What the f&%#$_!?! He thought, confused. Poor Freddy had yet to realize he had no control over a fanfiction, or what being a fanfiction victim truly meant. Until now. 


	2. Under the Mistletoe With Mary

Back again. Ahh. More ways to torture Freddy with fanfiction. I feel better already (that, and X-mas break being here). ^-^

Uh...yeah. I posted the 1st chapter again. Oops. Sorry about that! It's just...I'm losing the pitiful remains of my brain cells over vacation. Anyways, sorry about that! 

Thanks to PsYcHo PirATe METALLICA and Danielle L. B for being my first reviewers, and thanks to Danielle to constructively criticizing me. It helped.^_^ As she said, the idea of Freddy with pop-ups and a computer is pretty unrealistic. So this fic is AU (Alternate Universe) because of the unrealistic situations. If you don't like AU, don't read. Also, no flames. 

Disclaimer: Wow. If I owned ANY part of "Nightmare on Elmstreet" or "Freddy vs. Jason", I would be hiding away in an dark mansion, coming up with more horror, and spending all of my days writing. Sigh. But I don't. Nor do I own anything else that appears in this story.

Also, Danielle L.B pointed out that it didn't seem like fanfiction to her, and she's kinda right. it's really more about the types of stories, even those not in the "Nightmare on Elmstreet" area. Which brings me to my next point: types of fanfiction. You're gonna be seeing some types of fanfictions that haven't been written for this section. And you'll be seeing some different types of sections other than "Nightmare on Elmstreet". Why? You ask. Well to make it more interesting of course.

If you have any thing you'd like to see, go ahead and ask. I don't mind suggestions. All the more to torture my favorite villain. *evil grin* 

Warning: Mary-Sue bashing. (Not very good, but hey. I'm writing this more for my own amusement than anything else, so I don't really care.) 

Alright, I'll shut up now. Enjoy! 

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Freddy vs. Fanfiction 

Under the Mistletoe with Mary... 

Freddy found himself back in the study of his nightmare home. Shuddering, he tried to leave the sight, but found himself unable to. Damn computer. 

Reluctantly, shifting through more pop-ups about viagra ("What do I need THAT stuff for? I'm eternally young!"), he escaped the "Nightmare on Elmstreet" section, figuring he wouldn't get sucked in if he weren't in his own section. (Great sentence structure, I know. ^_~) 

Somehow, he wound up reading a mistletoe fic (AN) against his will. _What the- _Freddy gagged as his eyes scanned all the fluffiness. _Urgghh. The lovey-dovey bulls&*^ ! I'd rather watch that Lizzie McGuire crap than this! The agony! _The dream haunter was just leaving to *ahem* relieve his nausea when another aura engulfed him. _Jesus Christ! What now? _

*Weird color sequence with tiny, dancing happy Fredddies (like I said, AU)*

Freddy found himself in yet another unusual circumstance as he sat up, wincing at the cheery atmosphere. _Not again! This better not be... _His hypothesis, as much as he wanted it to be false, was proven correct when he looked above him, and saw the evil little plant smirking down at him; mistletoe.

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Just great.. he thought bitterly, dusting his ratty clothes off as he stood up. "Excuse me?" A harmonious voice rang out, as if from heaven's choir. Freddy's illness returned the moment the first syllable hit his ear. "Are you alright?" He whirled to see a girl, an adolescent it appeared, standing in front of him. Her hair, a luminous platinum blond color, falling in waves down to her back, accentuated her heart-shaped face, a beautiful alabaster not found in most girls. Her haunting blue eyes didn't seem to mind as they observed him checking her out.

She had a nice rack, he'd give her that. And her hips weren't too bad either. _Nice tits, great body... _As much as he was enjoying looking at her, he couldn't shake off a feeling that something was wrong with this girl. Indeed he was correct yet again; this girl was a Mary-Sue. But he didn't know that. Yet. 

"Mister?" She called out to him again in that sugary sweet tone. _Nausea...Must find...bathroom... _"What the hell do you want, bitch?" He demanded in a harsh tone, trying his best not to puke all over the girl. On second thought...Freddy retched all over the stupid little whore. But instead of bursting out into tears, the girl...Wait. Hadn't he just puked all over her green sweater? If so, then why was it back to it's normal state of unearthly cleanliness? _That's not right..._Freddy had become disturbed at her seemingly magical ability. "Oh." She giggled, a sound, if possible, that was worst than her normal pitch. "You must be wondering how I became so clean, so fast. Everyone does." 

She was worse than all those bitches he had to face back in the 80's. "Anyway," She went on, clearly not getting the fact he wanted to massacre her to shreds. "I'm like," She blushed, trying to be humble, because, after all, she was perfect. "Well, I'm really athletic..." Freddy tuned her out as she started an never-ending speech of how terrible her life was, and how fortunate she had been by cleverly escaping her hellish family. Freddy dashed from the room, his nausea returning and spent a good 4 hours getting to know the toilet better.

While on his way back, (in hopes of finding an escape) he contemplated on how perfect that girl seemed. First of all, she kept "checking him out" as he did her. But that was to be expected. He was a pervert. But she? No normal girl would ever find him attractive, as much as he thought of himself as attractive. Second, she seemed to have no flaws. That just wasn't right. At all. And third, how did she maintain those breasts with that thin waistline of hers? It was just...wrong. 

When he entered the room, the creepy blond bitch cornered him against the wall, underneath that same mistletoe. "What the f-" But before he could even begin to protest, the girl had put her lips to his and slipped her tongue into his mouth. _Arggh..._Freddy usually liked good sex (he's a guy, and an evil one at that ;p), but this, this was disturbingly sweet. Her lip gloss was some nasty fruit flavor that somehow ended up in his mouth.

Where had he seen girls like this before? He knew there was something to damn familiar about this girl, but he didn't know what. 

Then it dawned on him. _Mary-Sue... _It was an evil worse than the Catholic church. And he found, to his amazement, that when he shoved, Mary-Sue fell down. Now he was the one with the evil grin upon his face.

"Listen, bitch, do you know who I am?" He hissed at the slender figure heaped upon the floor. Being a Mary-Sue, she had unnatural supernatural powers. "Yes I do , Freddy." She stood up, somehow changing form as she unfurled herself from her weakened state. Now she was equipped with the most advanced weapons, as well as her amazing intuition. "And I'm here to undo the wrong you have done to others. 

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Sure you were. Freddy thought dryly. He knew the girl was just trying to get laid. Not that he could blame her for wanting the most evil villain of all time. He grinned menacingly. "Are you sure you don't want some more of this darling?" He licked his lips tauntingly. The look she gave him was of pure repulsion. "I would never even consider dating someone like you." She spat at him, venom hinting at her every word. 

"Really now?" Freddy was enjoying this. "I could have sworn just a minute ago you were coming onto me." His grin grew more wicked. "If you want to continue, you know all you have to do is." She interrupted him. "I was NOT coming onto you. I wasn't. I wasn't. I wasn't." For lack of a better response, she stomped her feet and began wailing an intolerable noise. Instantly, all the males in the room came to her aid, as they heard the scream. 

Freddy decided that that was the opportune moment to make his move. A bloodcurdling scream, louder and higher pitched than before came out of the Mary-Sue's mouth, and Freddy regretted stabbing her. But he enjoyed the sight of her death, as melodramatic and perfect as it might seem.

"Please...my...loves." Her breathe was growing shorter by the moment. "For me...kill....him." The last thing she ever did was point. At Freddy. Freddy snorted. There was no chance for any of the men in the room. 

All of a sudden, the walls from all around caved as legions of guys attacked. Christ! How many people did that whore sleep with? Freddy was dumbfounded, and unprepared for the ensuing attack. He raised his clawed hand in defense, anticipating a huge kill. 

But they came from all around, various objects in hand. There was a rubber duck, a fork, a spoon, and one guy even ripped off one of the dead girl's arms and began poking him with it. Poke. Poke. Poke. Poke. 

Freddy was clearly outnumbered, and just when he was about to scream from insanity, he was back in his study. "Goddamn you stupid f%$#ing computer." He kicked it in it's rage. But this was clearly a mistake.

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Author's Note: "Mistletoe fic" is a romance story where two people who secretly like each other meet under the mistletoe. I twisted this a bit to make it more interesting. ****


	3. FrankieI mean, Freddy Goes to Hollywood

I apologize for not updating in a while. I have been sick with some form of strep throat. Gah. Not fun at all. On the other hand I am missing school...*evil grin* Ok, it's also because I'm really lazy, but we'll ignore that for now. ^_~

Anyways, thanks to all my reviewers! Your feedback is very much appreciated. Plus, I have never gotten this many reviews for only two chapters...^_^

Disclaimer: I do not own Nightmare on Elmstreet. Sigh. Or anything else (except original characters, which won't appear too often.) I also do not own Maeve. Nor do I own "Pirates of the Caribbean" All the more reason I hate my life. 

Alright ladies and gents, today's torture device...I mean, chapter, is on...Freddy, dealing with...crossovers. I'm not so sure how well it'll turn out, but I am going to try. I am not that good with Jack Sparrow...I mean...CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow's 'language' so other than the occasional 'savvy' and quotes, I am not even going to bother. 

Warning: This could be bad. But still, no flames. 

Also:

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*italics* = Jack/Norrington 'speaking in his mind' (You'll see what I mean soon enough)

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italics=Freddy 'speaking' 

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Freddy vs. Fanfiction 

Frankie...I mean, Freddy, Goes to Hollywood

*Bad, bad attempt at 80s reference. I don't know why I even named the chapter this, seeing as it has nothing to do with the actual content. *shrugs* 

Last we left Freddy, he was attempting to assassinate his Pentium 3 Processor. Clearly, the machine didn't like being hit. And so she bit back. Amid swirling colors, Freddy found himself being lift up into the air, and thrown back down upon the ground.

Freddy checked his surroundings to find he had gone back in time, or so it appeared. The street he was on was completely surrounded by odd looking buildings and other strange structure. The men, it seemed, wore...tights, or some other version of spandex. 

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What is this? The poor man's version of the 80s? 

But that couldn't be the case, he decided, looking at the women, whores, no doubt. Oh they were garbed in dresses, to be sure, but most of these dresses were cut to expose...a little more skin than was needed. 

As much as the thought turned him on, Freddy had learned all too well from his past experiences. 

"There ye are Captain!" A voice called out from behind him. What? Was he talking to Freddy? It was at this moment, Freddy decided to look down. What the f*&^? Those weren't his shoes, they were black boots. And, come to think about it, his pant material definitely felt off. 

Absentmindedly, he felt the air beside his head (for no apparent reason) and discovered that..."I have hair!" He covered his mouth with his hand, as he recognized the voice as not his own. It was slightly slurred, and held some what of an accent. "Indeed you do, Captain." Freddy whirled around to find the man who called out earlier to him giving him an eerie look. 

"Where are we?" Freddy tentatively asked. "Tortuga. Jack, are you feelin' alright?" The man called Gibbs questioned. Gibbs? How did Freddy know the man's name? And then the real Jack Sparrow came about. 

__

*What the bloody hell ?*

What the ? 

*Tryin' to commandeer me body eh?*

Holy f*&^ing shit. I'm talking to myself.

*No, mate. You're talking to the one, the only Captain Jack Sparrow. And I'll be taking me body back, savvy?*

Suddenly, Freddy felt something shift, and before he knew it, he was shoved to the back of his? mind. Who the hell was Jack Sparrow? 

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*CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, savvy luv?*

First of all, I'm a f*&%ing nightmare demon, a MALE demon at that. You call me 'luv' again a$$hole, and I'll personally murder you, 'savvy'?

*Murder...Red Rum....hmmm...Rum...* 

Is that all you f%$#ing think about? RUM!? What about killing? You have a f%*&ing sword for Satan's sake!

But by then, our beloved Captain had tuned the annoying, enraged dream demon out, in order to go to...where else? A tavern. 

__

Great, now we both get to get piss drunk. 

It had been a long while since Freddy got drunk. Not since...high school, he believed. He certainly didn't miss the hangovers. 

His attitude changed, when he observed all the drunken women, hanging onto the just as drunk as the women.

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*Tortuga, any man's paradise. Unless he's a eunuch. You're not a eunuch, are you?*

WTF is a 'eunuch' ?

*Never mind*

Freddy grinned as a blond, busty young women approached. 

*Computer's POV, whose name happens to be Maeve ^_~*

WHAT?!? NO! That bastard can't be happy! Must...torture...must...HAUNT!!! 

MUHAHAHAHAAHH!!! 

She *smirked* (Well, ok. So computers can't smirk in reality. But this ain't reality. So you know what? The more insane, the better) as an idea came to mind, one that would surely put him in his place...

*Meanwhile*

Things between Freddy, Jack, and the whore were just starting to heat up, when....

*Magical Poof in which their are more dancing Freddies* 

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What the f&*( ? 

Freddy found himself in another landscape, a more...refined town than Tortuga, so to speak. 

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*What the-*

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Great, I'm in another body, right? Who the hell is it this time, Santa? 

*Uh...* 

Whilst talking to yet another voice, Freddy looked checked himself out. He looked down to see...he was wearing tights.

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*STOCKINGS! Those are STOCKINGS. A respectable man such as myself does not wear tights.* 

Respectable man?!? What are you, the Queen of England?

*Firstly, I am a male. Secondly-*

It's called sarcasm a$$hole.

*Secondly, I am COMMODORE Norrington.*

WTF is a commodore?

*Never mind*

And, 'secondly', _why the hell are you in tights???_

*I AM NOT WEARING TIGHTS!*

At that moment, Elizabeth Turner (having married Will Turner a few months ago) bumped into the Commodore. But our Commodore wasn't exactly in control of himself at the moment. And Elizabeth just happened to be wearing a dress that showed...ahem...a little skin. "WHOA!" Freddy stepped back, eyeing the ample chest. "Nice t*&s." SLAP! Freddy winced as he felt the impact of a hand on his cheek.

"Commodore, I expect better of a gentleman such as yourself. Good day." And with that, Elizabeth turned on her heels and angrily walked away. 

*_My God, YOU IDIOT! YOU FREAKING PERVERT*_

Oh, and you WEREN'T looking at her? 

At this point, Freddy felt like committing suicide in this body. After all, his day hadn't exactly been 'perfect', to say the least. While contemplating with himself, Freddy was *shoved* aside by the body's rightful owner.

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*There. Now, to sort this mess out...*

With that, Freddy was forced to endure painful hours of which nothing really exciting happened, listening to the dull thoughts of Commodore Norrington. And then the Commodore went back to his home, were Freddy discovered the most horrifying thing. 

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YOU WEAR MAKE-UP!?!

*Cerimonial purposes, I assure you.* 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

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Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long to get up. But alas, I am a lazy American. *bows head in shame* Anyway, thanks once again to my wonderful reviewers, I really appreciate all of your comments and glad you like the story!

Countdown: Freddy vs. Jason comes out in 2 more days...sweet! 


	4. You Need A Little More WeePeace In Your ...

I feel…inspired. Time for another chapter! Thanks once again to all you reviewers! I feel so loved! 

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Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own "A Nightmare on Elmstreet" I also don't own the 1960s, and anything that happened during that time era. And Free Bird, well, Free Bird just is. He can't be owned. Ok I'm done. You lawyers can go home now.

As you can see from the title below, Freddy is going to have a little run in with our friend, the weed. Sorry, I just HAD to have a chapter with a stoned Freddy. I just had to. Don't ask me why, I just thought it'd be funny. But then again, my sense of humor is kinda…off. Anyway, this is a "going back in time" type of story, which you don't really see much of in this section. But it is widely popular in places such as "PotC" (I'm too lazy to type out the whole title ^_~) 

And again, if you are going to review, no flames. 

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Freddy vs. Fanfiction

You Need More Wee-Peace in Your Life! 

Freddy thanked God he was back in his own home again-he was that relieved. Deciding he had had enough for one night, Freddy attempted to turn off his computer (Which is what he should've done in the first place, but hey. He has had some what of a rough night so far.) 

I say attempted, because, as you all know, Freddy's computer has a life of its own. 

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Hahaha! Pathetic…uh _demon. _Freddy groaned inwardly. Just great. Now he was hearing voices. _I am not a voice, I am your computer! _Maeve cried indignantly. Freddy just stared at the monitor, which he had manually turned off himself, start to glow all these funky colors. "What the f*&% now?" He yelled to no one in particular. _Wait, and you shall see…_

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean, bitch?" He snarled, in frustration, and anger. _So you finally figured out I was female, huh? Good job! Point for Kruger, bing! _"Damn you!" Freddy continued on. But before his "computer" could speak again, Freddy once again found himself amid swirling colors, and black unconsciousness.

~*~*~Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, there was…the 60s~*~*~

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What the? Freddy woke in a strange field of some sort, among thousands upon thousands of people dressed in strange clothes. But not as strange as the ones from those other places, Tortuga and Port Royal. "I'll kill that good for nothing bitch the next time I *see* her." He muttered under his breath, completely unaware of the approaching man behind him. "Whoa! What's with the funky clothing dude?" He spoke up, causing Freddy to jump. "JESUS CHRIST!" He screamed, turning around, his blades ready to slice n' dice. 

"Chill man! I was just saying, your clothes are a little funky is all. But it's cool. You got your own vibes going on. No need for the yelling." He said matter-of-factly. While he was doing so, Freddy observed the man. He noticed the guy's hair was down to his freaking knees, and he was dressed mostly in tie dye. "Holy fuck." Freddy paled as he realized where exactly he was. "No friggin' way." He knew now, that he was in…the 60s. *da da duh* 

"Peace Man!" The guy gave the peace sign as he left. Freddy gave another sort of signal. "Dammit." Freddy was pissed. He had NEVER wanted to go back to this decade. It was full of hippies and feminists. It was too…happy. "Groovy hands dude!" Another one of them called out. "Jack off!" Freddy shouted back. This earned him strange looks as he walked by. 

"Why are you so angry?" A young man, by the looks of it, in his twenties, with long brown hair asked as he approached, as if he generally cared about Freddy. That itself was a disturbing thought. "Come on, you need some more wee-peace in your life." The guy guided Freddy over to a giant bonfire type of gathering. Freddy sniffed. The air smelled funny…

~*~*~God knows how long later~*~*~*

"Yeah, and then, the voice was telling me that she was my computer!" Freddy had inhaled about…I've lost count… of weed. He was now docile, and in sort of drunken stupor. For Freddy Kruger, it was the equivalent of an identity change. "And I was like, whoa man!" He was laughing with a group of hippies, which included the one who had brought him over. He remembered nothing of his killing days, and was starting to say 'groovy' and 'peace' more frequently. (I know I'm disturbed. O.o)

As he was walking, he slammed into a wall of some sort, which turned out to be a tree. "This is Merry, right?" He asked his companion. "No, no." The guy, who called himself Free Bird, corrected him. "_That's _Merry over there." He pointed to a slightly smaller Pine next to the tree Freddy had thought was Merry. "This," concluded Free Bird "is Joe." "What's going on Joe?" Freddy greeted the inanimate object. "Groovy! I LOVE the Grateful Dead too!" "Whoa man." It was clear that Freddy was very involved in the conversation. It was also very clear he was stoned beyond reason. "Yeah, cheese is pretty physcadellic." 

~*~*~*Maeve's POV~*~*~*

She knew he was going to regret getting high. Hell, he was going to be PISSED at her for sending him back to "the good old days". But as long as he was suffering, she could really care less. Besides, seeing him on acid was almost as good as seeing him drunk. She *smiled* as a new plot began to turn the wheels in her head. 

~*~*~*The Next Day~*~*~*~

Freddy awoke the next morning (in fanfiction of course) with his arm slung around a tree. The first thing that came to mind was: Why are all the pretty colors gone? The second was as to why it was so empty. And then he remembered. "F^%$&*^$$%^&*…" The slew of curses he used were endless, some of which were very uncommon. He grumbled and he complained; mostly because he was angry at the fact that he was longing to be back in the land of yin yangs and groovy colors. 

In anger, he sulked off stomping hard against the ground as he went along, looking much like a three-year old denied of a sugared treat. He did not take the time to look around as to what direction and where he was traveling. Had he done so, he would've gone back from where he came. Not paying attention, he bumped into a woman just in front of him. "Out of my way bitch." He shoved her carelessly with his clawed hand.

This was a mistake. "Don't you call me a bitch, you sexist pig!" She had turned around, and it was clear she was pissed. It was also clear to Freddy that she was a feminist. Proof of that was the sign she was holding, indicating she was a member of NOW. _Oh Shit._ Freddy thought, knowing he was in deep crap. _Well, NOT all aspects of feminism are bad. _He smirked at the thought of burning lingerie. " I WAS TALKING TO YOU!" SMACK! Freddy's head turned with the force of the women's hand against his burnt flesh. 

"Just because I am a woman," She told him in a dignified tone, "doesn't mean that I am below a man." "Look lady," Freddy growled, raising his blades. "I really don't have time for your feminism bullshit. So I'll-" He was grabbed by the women, and to his horror he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

~*~*~*Maeve~*~*~*

*Watching* on with enjoyment, she snickered as Freddy was taken hostage by a group of feminists, her kind of people. Ahh yes. He would get his just desserts fir what he had done.

~*~*~*Freddy~*~*~*

He was completely humiliated. Two of the friends of that bitch he had run into earlier were holding him by the arm and dragging him down the street. While he was wearing a bra. "How do you like it huh? Do you think bras are sexy NOW?" That same woman began to taunt him ruthlessly as he was further punished. He hoped to Satan that NO ONE on Elmstreet would EVER find out about this. Hell, he even hoped to GOD that no one would see the ultimate dream demon Freddy Kruger in a frilly, hot pink bra. 

****

Author's Note: The end! Ha ha! I got such a huge kick out of writing this chapter. First, sorry for all the stereotype hippie stuff. I don't mean to offend anyone by writing this. Same goes for the feminists. I got the idea for parading Freddy in a bra from my self. Hey, it's what I would've done if I were a feminist!

Anyway, the next two or three chapters are going to be like this one-only this time, Freddy is going to visit the 70s, 80s, and possibly the 90s. Why I'm doing this, I don't know. All I know is, I have some neat ideas I want to try out. Other than that, see you all next chapter! 


	5. Of Afros and Transvestites

I know. I haven't updated for…ever. The main reason is because school is such a pain in my ass (But now I'm on spring break…yayness!) and I have work. (That's right. I'm employed ^_^) 

As I said last chapter, this chapter is about the '70s. Roller rinks, afros, all that good stuff. (And *shudders* disco…) 

**Disclaimer:** If you still don't understand the fact that I don't own "A Nightmare on Elmstreet", you have serious issues dude.Also, I own NONE of the seventies, the songs or any other artifact from that decade. Nor do I own the brilliance that is "The Rocky Horror Picture Show"… Now, on with the story…  

BTW~ The RHPS bit takes place before the movie. So Brad and Janet will not be in the picture. Actually, the only part I'm really using is…you'll have to wait and see…;P  

FYI- If I offend ANY RHPS fans, for doing injustice to the characters, I apologize in advance. 

****

**Of Afros and Transvestites… **

Last we saw Freddy, he was in a frilly piece of lingerie (colored a lovely shade of hot pink, I might add), parading around the town, flaunting his *goods* (Ha!). He was also stuck in the 60s. With no clue as to how to get of there. He supposed he'd just have to wait for that bitch of a computer to stop menstruating…

Which was the wrong thing to suppose, on his part. Then again, he is male, so we must forgive his lack of knowledge (any males reading this…sorry! ^_~) of the female anatomy. Alas, before he could utter a simple "fuck", Freddy was whisked away by the magical dancing Freddies, victim to the will of his computer. 

~*~*~*~*

_What the hell happened this time? _He awoke among neon lights, glaringly blinding him for the moment. "AH MY EYES!" He yelped, rubbing his decent hand over both eyes, trying to rid of the handicap placed upon him. 

There was a THUD! sort of noise and Freddy felt the pain of a skate clad foot stabbing into him. By this time, the blindness had eased away, and Freddy could see again. 

Already peeved by his current situation of popping in and out of eras, Freddy prepared to take out his rage on the fool who had dared to cross him. Just as he was about to gut the young man, who lay cowering on the floor at the sight of Freddy's rage, familiar lyrics floated from the stereo:

_"At first I was afraid, I was petrified,_

_Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side…"_

As soon as the first note hit the atmosphere, Freddy cringed. He had LOATHED this song from the moment it had come out. As for the man sprawled upon the ground, the song empowered him, giving him the courage to skate away, singing as he went along.  "I will survive, for as long as I know how to love I know I'll stay alive…" 

"I don't think so." Freddy muttered, not one to give leeway to those who had enraged the nightmare king. And so he attempted to give chase. I say, "attempted" because, when he took his first step, he fell flat on his face. 

"Oh no." Freddy, horrified, came to realize his environment of the moment: a roller rink. He also gained the knowledge that he was wearing roller skates, as evident by his sudden stumble. 

The seventies were Freddy's least favorite years of the past; disco music and roller rinks were just two of his major annoyances. There were countless other aspects about the era he particularly hated; afros for example. He could never, nor would he ever, understand the point of them; to him, they were the mullets of the seventies generation. 

He had hit his head pretty hard, and so to check for any damage, Freddy put his hands (which, he noted, were claw free) to his head. What he discovered was the stuff of _his_ nightmares; he had a 'fro. Simply put, he swore more loudly and vulgar than he had ever had sworn before. He pulled, and he tugged, but his hair would not budge. 

And then he looked down, and saw he was completely transformed from his Christmas themed sweater and dirt ridden pants; he found himself garbed in a sparkly cerulean leisure suit. This, along with the afro nesting mockingly upon his head, was tragedy for the child coveting demon. 

And then it dawned on him; he was a white man. With an afro, wearing a leisure suit. _I must look like Bozo… _Freddy paled drastically, just before passing out yet again at the very thought.

~*~Hours later~*~

Freddy woke up to find his afro gone; thank Satan. He was lying on some sort of a divan, one of sultry colors and sweet comfort. This left Freddy even more confused than he already was; how'd he get from that hell-hole of a roller rink to this place? He wanted to suppose it was "Maeve", but he supposed he'd done enough supposing for one day.

"Where the hell am I now?" He pondered, glancing suspiciously at his new surroundings. It appeared he was inside a manor; one that had been abandoned, but still looked lived in. Freddy was seriously lost. 

"Ah. He's awake." Drawled a scrawny, stoic type of man dressed, presumably as the butler. Walking along side him was a woman of puffy scarlet hair, so much so it looked to be an afro. Freddy shuddered at the very thought. _Afro…evillllll……_

"Master will be with you in just a moment." The woman spoke as she pulled Freddy up from his furled position. "As for now, we have company. Won't you join us?" 

"Who the fuck are you people?!? Where the fuck am I?" Freddy was pretty pissed, and he wanted answers NOW. 

"Calm down sir. This is Magenta." The man answered, gesturing to his female companion. "And I am Riff Raff. And you are here at the Frankenfurter manor." 

"You seem a little…uptight. We must get you to unwind." Magenta shared a look with Riff Raff, one that Freddy saw, and alerted his caution among these outlandish people. Grabbing both his hands (his bladed glove still missing), the two servants led their "guest" into a rather large room, looking like it could be the parlor. Within the room stood dozens of women? Or were they men? Freddy honestly couldn't make heads or tails of it; they were dressed mostly in fish nets, and other type of hooker wear. 

As soon as his first footstep tapped the hollow floor, whispers began to tauntingly dance around. "He's cute." The words entered Freddy's hearing, and he could instantly tell that it was a male. Freddy shuddered at the prospect of that information.

"Hey!  Is this yours?" Freddy twisted around to see a young woman, dressed as all the rest of those weirdoes, holding out his famed bladed glove. What struck Freddy the most about this girl was her hair, or, rather, her lack of it. What little hair she did own was colored neon orange, more of neon pink at second glance. The disturbing part was, was that it reminded Freddy of a certain pop icon from a later decade…

_Cyndi Lauper…Argh. _He shuddered, thinking back to the annoyance of her songs. _Don't think of it…Don't… "Girls just wanna have fun, o girls just wanna have fun." _"Goddammit." He muttered under his breath, irritated that his own analogy stirred up lyrics he had NEVER wanted to hear again.

"Hello? I asked if this was yours." She spoke again. Freddy seized the glove from her, cradling it as his own child. "Oo…kinky." She giggled, flirtatiously winking at him as she walked away. 

"You're actually quite lucky; you've awoken in time for one of Master's special affairs." Magenta told Freddy as she walked past. 

"How lucky of me." He murmured, not knowing what was coming up next. 

"You're lucky, I'm lucky, we're ALL lucky." Magenta spun around, as music began to seep in through out the room. 

"It's astounding, 

Time is fleeting,

Madness takes its toll

But listen closely

Not for very much longer

I've got to keep control."

Riff Raff began the melody, as Magenta gave him an odd sort of signal, confusing Freddy all the while. Riff Raff continued on, starting in on some fantastical dance, grabbing Freddy and forcing him to dance as well. 

"You psychopath! You idiotic asshole! Do you have any-" But Freddy lost his protests among the excited cries of the crowd, as Riff Raff continued his verse.

"I remember doing the time warp."

Freddy tried his best to escape, but it was to no avail. 

"Drinking these moments when

The blackness would hit me."

Freddy, dancing against his will saw Magenta over in the corner, simply rocking, looking as if she were getting off on this song. Frightened, Freddy again attempted to threaten his captor, but of course it made no difference.

"And the void would be calling."

It was to Freddy's relief that he was let go, as Riff Raff went off and opened a set of doors labeled "Ball Room", bringing him into yet another room, this one filled with even more transvestite beings. Looking up at a bright banner, Freddy learned that it was the annual Transylvanian Convention, a gathering of all the freaks in this world that happened once every year. 

The guests are moved by Riff Raff's start, and began to dance, pulling Freddy into their tide, forcing him to dance yet again.

"Let's do the time warp again!"

*Random Pause*

"Let's do the time warp again!"

Suddenly, the scene cuts to the author, sitting innocently enough at her computer. She too, decides to join in the fun and torture Freddy.

"It's just a jump to the left."

Back in the ball room, Freddy found himself jumping along with the guests, wanting very badly to slice and dice his way home.

"And a step to the right-right-right-right-right." 

Again, Freddy found himself doing as the song commanded, unaware that he was now dressed in a leather halter-top, leather hot pants, and fishnets. 

Meanwhile, back in the computer room of the author, she finds herself joyously singing the next line.

"With your hands on your hips."

Back at the manor, Freddy, to his horror, places his hands upon his hips along with everyone else. He is helpless to do anything more than obey the song.

Meanwhile, the guests are ecstatic, loosing themselves in the moment.

"You bring your knees in tight

But it's the pelvic thrust

That will really drive you insane."

Freddy thrust his pelvis, blissfully ignorant to the fact that he is doing so dressed as a prostitute. 

"Let's do the time warp again!" 

Freddy, exhausted from the stress he had been put through throughout the day, collapsed, unable to go on… 

**Authors Notes: **I'm sorry I didn't parody the entire "Time Warp", but I had to stop there, otherwise I'd have ended up parodying the entirety of RHPS. But it was fun to put Freddy in transvestite clothing. ^_^

BTW~ I was watching "Freddy vs. Jason" the other day, when I found out that the stoner dude's name was Free Bird. I had no idea of it at the time I was writing Chapter 4. Anyway, I found it amusing. ^_^

Next Chapter, the 80s! My favorite decade. In fact, I might just write two chapters on the subject!!!  


	6. I Love the 80s

**Author's Notes:** Thanks MetalMyersJason for pointing out my little blunder.

**Disclaimer:** I own NOTHING of NOES or any other aspect of the 1980s… ok ok I'll say it. I don't own any of the hair bands mentioned in this story. Happy now that you've dampened my day?

**I Love the 80s'**

Freddy awoke back at his computer desk, relief evident in his motions as he looked around and recognized the furnishings of his home. "Thank Satan." He muttered.

Deciding to end his little fanfiction/decade mishaps, Freddy attempted to turn off the computer once again. Of course, it should come to no surprise to the reader that he failed. If it does, this is not the story for that reader. Back to the point, Freddy again found his world draped in black, the sensation of unconsciousness all too familiar with him at this point.

Like, long, long, like ago, in the um…good ol' days of like valley girls

Flamboyant was what came to mind when he found his way back to consciousness. For, he awoke in a mall littered with humans decorated in the most obnoxious of oranges, magentas, and violets. Which could only indicate one thing…

Freddy Krueger was in the 1980s.

After cursing until his hearts content, Freddy picked himself up off the floor, disgusted. The only factor that redeemed this decade from being any worse than the 70s' was that this was his decade. He, Freddy Krueger, was king. He smirked at this, knowing full well he would be causing uproar among the people of the mall. His steps were noticeable in their cocky pace as he passed by dozens of people, the majority of that population female. It was disappointing to him, the sight of them. He had no inclination of checking them out, because, as we all know, it was the 80's, and fashion, perhaps, was the most damaged of the victims of this era. It was sad really, to see them in their brightly colored shirts, their leggings and/or acid washed jeans, as well as their hair, tossed and teased to the high heavens. Freddy simply cringed as they walked by him.

As he was caught up in trying to find women (more specifically teenagers), it took Freddy a while to realize that something was very, very wrong. He stopped suddenly, as it finally hit him what was wrong; he was Freddy Krueger, he was in the 80s', and no one was startled by him. What in the hell was wrong with them?

_Merciful fucking Christ… _Freddy felt again the terror the 70s' brought with them; cautiously he glanced down, afraid of what he might find.

"**AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"******

He had every good reason to shout. One look at his appearance, and the violent outburst of his screaming was explained; he was dressed in pants of…yes, spandex, more specifically, lycra. They were black in color, with the most annoying shade of green running up the sides as flames. On his feet were sneakers with an odd pair of squiggles on the side of them, identifying them as L.A Gear. His shirt was hidden underneath a sleazy, brown colored Member's Only jacket. Of course, these were little annoyances compared to what came next.

Being a mall, there were plenty of display cases around. And of course, as we all know, these are transparent, similar in structure to the mirror and window. As Maeve would have it, Freddy just so happened to be near a display case, rather large in size, at the very moment he was discovering his new look. And it just so happened, a rather random moment, that he turned his head in that direction.

He didn't scream when he saw it, though, Lucifer knows he was desperate to. No, he kept what remaining dignity (minimal in amount) he had as he stared on in horror, oblivious to the weird looks the passer-by were giving him most generously. "I look like David Lee Roth." Now, what caused Freddy to compare himself with the lead singer of Van Halen was the…thing he called his hair. In the seventies, he dubbed the afros the mullets of that very decade. And now, he had a bleached blonde mullet flowing down his shoulders, somewhat resembling David's.

Freddy would have stayed in that spot, enraptured by the horror nesting upon his once hairless head, if not for the blaring music coming from the interior of the store he was standing in front of. TVs were present in the display case, and from which was the source of the atrocious excuse of music. Freddy took one glance at the TV, and immediately felt ill; what was on at the moment was the video for Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It". Upon seeing Dee Snider in full, drag queen gear, Freddy felt dizzy with déjà vu of the "Time Warp". _Goddamn Transvestites…_

He immediately walked away, desperate to get away from the hair bands that continued to haunt him to this very day. One would think that Freddy, being the perverse, serial killer that he was, would be fond of some sort of heavy metal, Metallica per say. Ironically enough, the dream stalker preferred Frank Sinatra, the works of Mozart, and even, Barbra Streisand. Of course, no one would EVER know this, for he kept his musical tastes well hidden.

To get back to heavy metal, it was the least favorite musical genre of Freddy, coming in a close second was hip-hop/rap, but that's beside the point. Part of which made the 80s a living hell for him were the bands in make-up that seemed to infest many of the dreams in which he took residence. This was what motivated Freddy to ponder about the year of which he was in. For, you see, the worst of the hair metal arrived very late in the decade of excess, and was the very favorite of all the 'bimbo' chicks he killed. He was hoping, a rather rusted practice of his, that it was not too late into the 80s, for the sake of the ruminants of his sanity.

He contemplated this as he walked along, keeping to himself, when a rather odd store caught his eye. It appeared to be some sort of Halloween shop, what with all the cheesy witch costumes and the like peering out from the interior of the place. _Most likely this is the only decent store in the whole fucking place. _He thought as he entered. Out of sheer boredom (and because the music in that particular store was half-way tolerable) he began shifting through the various costumes.

As he scoffed and scorned at the pathetic excuses of Grim Reaper guise, the song on the radio faded into another. This may seem trivial, for the beginning of the song was undistinguished and rather unknown, simply another song. But those avid 80s fans would know, simply from the light guitar intro, the song that had sparked was none other than…

**" Jenny****, Jenny who can I turn to?" **

_Fuck. _If there was one song that held all even more annoyance than all hair bands combined, it was the horrible melody of "867-5309/Jenny" that plagued the air waves of the early 80s'. The only good news it brought with the EVER annoying and repetitive lyrics was that it was the early 80s; therefore, the horrible hair band aforementioned couldn't have existed. What Freddy _didn't _know about that particular radio station was that it played hits from ALL of the decade, and his current position wasn't exactly in 1982. Despite his ignorance, Freddy assumed he would be able to manage through that one song.

**"867-5309! 867-5309! I GOT IT (I GOT IT) I GOT IT!"**

Freddy, of course, was ALWAYS among the musically inclined, wasn't he? Well, he knew how to solve _this _little problem…

**"I GOT YOUR NUMBER ON THE WALL!"**

But while he had been pondering over the decade in general and its music, a crowd had quickly begun to filter into the store, blocking any hope for escape. Now, had they not been singing and dancing along with the horrendous sound that was the one-hit wonder, there would have been room for him to leave. And so, with his hands (reduced to normalcy yet again) over his ears, Freddy desperately tried to block out the horrible noise.

**"867-5309! 867-5309!"**

Obviously, this attempt wasn't much of a match for the volume of the song, as an employee cranked it up upon seeing the customers it was drawing in. "Stupid fucking telephone numbers." He grumbled, annoyed with his state of entrapment. Although Freddy wouldn't admit it to anyone, he _had_ (while extremely bored) dialed that very number. Ironically enough, that number in his little area of the woods was for some female violence support group. When he had asked for Jenny…let's just refer back to his 60s' experience.

**"867-5309…" **

Much to the relief of Freddy, the song finally came to a close. But the crowd refused to leave the store, leaving him with no way out. Cursing in hurried breaths, he reluctantly went back to his critique of the various costumes. But the temporary reprieve wasn't for long, for as soon as the miscellaneous radio babble had ended, another song, one even MORE frustrating than the previous, came on.

**"OH MICKEY, YOU'RE SO FINE, YOU'RE SO FINE YOU BLOW MY MIND, HEY MICKEY, HEY MICKEY!" **

Merciful fucking Satan. He had thought his situation couldn't have possibly sunk to depths lower than "Jenny"; oh, but how it had. It was, quite possibly, the worst excuse of a pop song to have EVER come into existence. Its beats were MUCH more irritating than said "Jenny"; the vocals were FAR more obnoxious than "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun". It was the goddamned cheerleader song that had plagued the nightmare king since its birth in the early 80s; which did, to some extent, provide him with some reassurance that it was the early 80s.

**"CAUSE WHEN YOU SAY YOU WILL, IT ALWAYS MEANS YOU WON'T!"**

Freddy, being far too concerned with his thoughts, did not take notice of the figure behind him. And so he screamed when he was pulled into the crowd of dancers, though the song was at a volume much too loud for anyone to hear his pleas. Thrust among _them _(his term for the weirdoes dancing and clapping along with the songs) he had no choice _but _to dance; a rather pitiful option.

"**OH MICKEY, WHAT A PITY YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!"**

The dance was compiled of the most common of stereotypical cheerleading moves; with the conventional "pom pom" motions leading the way. Of course, Freddy was doing these as well, for he had long since lost control of his free will. This very reason explained why he was in cheerleading memorabilia. His dance steps were…clumsy, to say the least. Which is why it was inevitable that he would look down and discover… "Holy shit." He was wearing a mini-skirt of flamboyant "magenta" (let's face it: _dark pink_) and "light violet" (otherwise known as: _magenta_). His top, which exposed more skin than Freddy had ever seen, even on those sluts which plagued his dream world. And of course, what cheerleading costume would be complete _without _the girlishly pink pom poms?

**"OH MICKEY, YOU'RE SO FINE, YOU'RE SO FINE YOU BLOW MY MIND, HEY MICKEY, HEY MICKEY!" **

So, utterly humiliated in his little 'get-up', Freddy was forced by some higher deity (his computer) to shake his ass (among other things) like some common bimbo. And, despite his clumsy footwork and motions, he was actually quite good at it. And for those concerned for the mullet- don't worry. It was still neatly perched a top his head, and no damage was done.

As soon as the last of the chants of "Mickey" had died and had settled nicely into a coffin, Freddy was finally capable of his own movements. He ran as if he was the one being hunted by some demonic figure in his sleep. Panting as he was in human form, meaning that he had to breathe, he collapsed pitifully next to some bitch on a bench.

She tilted her head as soon as she was alerted to his presence. "Hi!" She eagerly greeted, in a nasally voice that made the squeal of an Orlando Bloom fangirl sound deep and rich in its timbre. _Holy shit, _he thought, slowly inching away as he noticed the girl was garbed in a Care Bears shirt. His face showed no signs of emotion, though inside he was praying for the return of his bladed glove.

"Hello?" She stuck her face in his, as she was expecting a reply. "Like, I was saying, you'd be perfect for this contest." She looked as if she were about to leave as she hastily got up. _Thank God. _Freddy only thought to soon.

"Come on!" She tugged at his hands, trying to move him from his perch. Strangely, despite her rather petite appearance, her grip was rather strong. He was up on his feet in less than five minutes. _Great._He grumbled. _Where am I off to next? _


End file.
